PS 635 
.Z9 



Copy 1 





:::T'^. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



&]ittiu'&mmv4ii'^a 

Shelf. ^^..Ua. 85" 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



* ^\? ^^^^ ^^ ^^ w^ S'^' S^ ^^ ^^ S ^ ©^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^-^ wS 



-"LORD sparrowdale:- 



BY 



Ed. Langner 



Allegheny, (Pa., June iS6. 

March ^T-gi, 
July 3i.g4. 



j MM^^^^M^ ^^mmMMMM^mmmmm 



H-LORD SPARROWDALE> 



By El^WARE) IvANONKR. 



A Tragedy in 5 Acts. 



1 



CHApACTEKS REPRESENTED. 

Sir Harry, Lord of Sparrowdale, an English Baron 

Lady Margaret, Wife of the same in name only 

Lady Emily, Their daughter 

Earl of Hinsington, .• An English Peer 

Lord George, Bastard Son of the Earl 

Colonel Traglio, Rightful Son of the Earl 

Driscoe, Steward of the Baron's household 

Mary, His daughter and lawful Lady Sparrowdale 

Linton, Servant of the Baron's household and rightful 

Lord of Sparrowdale, being the Baron's elder brother's Son 

Lucy, Maid to Emily 

Pallbearers, Tenantry^' and others. 
TIME— Close of last Century. 

The Scene is laid in the north of England, enacting partly at Mowbray 
Castle and mostly at Halgath Castle. 



1A^ 



ACT 1. 

Scene I. — Halgath Castle. 

{Enter Lady Sparrowdale and Emily.) 

Emily : This, mother, is my confidence and cause of all my secret 
sorrowing. 

Lady S. : You have made it plain to me. 

Emily : But why then, do you not answer my entreaty ? 

Lady S. : Because I fear to shock your ear with the truth. Your 
father is a stern man who will brook no cross once he sets determi- 
nation on a thing. 

Emily : Will he be angry, do you think ? 

Lady S. : There is no telling such men. Of this be assured, he 
will not willingly sacrifice ambition to your love. It is an affair he 
cannot tolerate in his state of mind, which is rule or ruin — whoever 
the victim. 

Emily : Can it be that that ambition would be vile enough to make 
woman its slave, tearing out her heart, bartering it as so much stuff, 
the highest bidder buying ? The daughter of a Sparrowdale made 
ware of — marketable goods- the father crying sale ? No, no. 

Lady S. : Ambrose is a good man. But child, your father's choice 
is not this man. Character is naught — pride of title, all. 

Emily : It is true then, the Earl was here yesterday to arrange the 
union ? 

Lady S. : Poor child. 

Emily : Indeed, indeed ; I am poor. 

Lady S. : The suffering of years - the terrors of a wretched life, has 
taught me never to falter, but look the coming smiling in the face. So 
.do you, Emily. Look up, leave despair the care of things which may 
come all too soon. 

Emily : O ! I am very unhappy. 

Lady S. : For your sake let us hope your father may yet consider 
for the better, leaving his unworthy ambition. A little time and com- 
fort may work well. (Exit together. Enter Lord Sparrowdale L. and 
re-enter Emily C, who, on seeing him, would retire.') 

Sparrowdale : How now. Lady ? 

Emily : I am in search of something I have lost. 

Sparrowdale : Is it that makes you fear the finding ? 

Emily : (Finds her kerchief,) Here it is. 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Sparrowdale : Be seated. It is my wish that you remain. No ex- 
cuses. My daughter, you have thus far been an obedient child — 

Emily : I have no memory what instance you could call in ques- 
tion. 

Sparrowdale : I said, thus far. Now listen the further and remember I 
expect your full obedience. You have attained a marriageable age — 

Emily : You seldom jest, father. 

Sparrowdale : You are right, it is never jest with me. Well, the 
Earl was here but now, and at my express wish, proposes his son's 
union with you. 

Emily : Do you propose to carry out this union ? 

Sparrowdale : This union. Does it create wonder ? 

Emily : The union of a profligate and your daughter ? 

Sparrowdale: He is wild some— extravagant — keeps bad company 
perhaps. 

Emily : O, yes ! Perhaps. 

Sparrowdale : He is all this for the present, I will admit. 

Emily : Yes, yes. 

Sparrowdale : As your husband, he will do better. A model wife 
can ever reform the erring man. 

Emily : But the cost, father, to one as I who do not love him ; nay, 
I detest him. 

Sparrowdale: Gently. » 

Emily : Surely this marriage is impossible. 

Sparrowdale : Foolish girl, think of the title. 

Emily : Father, father, desist. I can only think of my peace of 
mind — my happiness. 

Sparrowdale: In this affair my better sense must rule. I'll have 
my way, undertaking this thing, if it is not to your taste. Hark what 
I say. I'll do it and done. 

Emily : O ! father, I beseech you be not hasty in the matter. 

Sparrowdale : Hasty — nay I am patient ; harsh and tender in the 
same breath, speaking for the best and looking to your good. 

Emily : Give me time. Let me consider and commune with myself. 

Sparrowdale : — And your mother. Do not deceive me, girl, and 
spare no pains to be obedience, which only your mother can teach, is 
obedience indeed. Take care. (Exit.) 

Emily : O ! The heart that must forsake the nature of the thing to 
be obedient. (Eater Lady Sparrowdale and Colonel Traglio.) 

Traglio : Though we were at disadvantage, reaching port by some 
delays, our later haste made good the hindrance all. 

Lady S. : It is pleasure to hear you cherish our memory with such 
fervour. Do you remain long in England ? 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Traglio : Circumstance alone can answer that. Ah ! The Lady- 
Emily. " 

Lady S. : She surely has voice to welcome so good a friend. 

Emily : Should I long his presence and be unhappy ? O ! Friend, 

Traglio : Wind and wave combined to keep me dread suspensed. It 
did rack me sore, making so slow a journey, so charmed a trysting place. 
Those hours apart were hateful, but occupied withal. When I could 
think no more of fortune — who is a damsel not unlike yourself — I 
thought of you entirely, thus lighting moments to blissful nothings. 
{Exit Lady S. ) Sweet maiden — 

Emily[: For your person's safety I can feel only happy. 

Traglio : Your mother is a gracious lady. I have longed this mo- 
ment. 

Emily : Unkind one to say that. 

Traglio : Love is at fault entertaining company. Where affection 
reigns, there is little room for those not subject of the realm. 

Emily : The stranger comfort. 

Traglio : There is something on your mind. What is it, Emily ? 

Emily : We must bear ill — pain. 

Traglio : I see how 'tis. I am unworthy thy esteem. You do not 
love me. 

Emily^: They will not let me love you. 

Traglio : What do you mean ? 

Emily : My father has promised my hand in marriage to another. 

TragUo : Ha ! Who is it?/ 

Emily : Lord HinsingtoUj 

Traglio : Infamous. Except duty, there is no walk he has not trod, and 
he your father's choice ? Your father cannot be ignorant concerning 
this young man. Not alone in England, but on the continent, his 
profligate career has gained him note unenvied. It is impossible Lord 
Sparrowdale does not know his full disgrace. He dare not know as 
much as I, and do the outrage. 

Emily : Can he not excuse the action, by placing interest in his 
reformation ? 

Traglio : Can he at the sacrifice he demands ? 

Emily : His nature is unused to look beside his purpose ; once he 
has one, it is carried out infallible. He remains consistent always. 

Traglio : He shall be counteracted. So fear nothing, sweetheart. 
Let me think ; it is to be shrewd now, the enemy coping us. 

Emily : I lay full trust in your friendship —it is my only hope to 
lean on out of misery. 

Traglio : I have the plan I believe, holding your father a while at 
least. We'll see. (Enter Lady Sparrowdale.) 
Emily : What is the matter now ? 



Lord, Sparrowdale. 



Lady S. : Lord George is come your father's guest. But follow 
here. 

Traglio : The evil's afoot early. To work betimes, my Lord's. But 
never fear, the worst is not so soon. There's room yet. {Enter Lords 
Sparrowdale and George.) 

Sparrowdale : With your kind leave, Lady Emily — Madam — Lord 
Hinsington. I fancy you must greet him kindliest, the nature of his 
visit being only pleasant. Eh, George ? 

George : Clearly, my Lord. Ladies, I bow your servant. 

Sparrowdale : The stranger guest. How, madam ? 

Lady S. : The warm friend Lady Emily and I met in our foreign 
travels —Colonel Traglio, gentlemen. 

Traglio : My Lord, I hasten to beseech your favor on any rudeness 
seeming me its mark. 

Sparrowdale : Sir ! I see none. As my Lady's friend, you are most 
welcome ; as her guest we must not want in hospitality. 

Traglio : I thank you. 

Sparrowdale : My Lady hostess attending, we will make bold to 
weave her spell around us. Halgath abounds in many beauties that 
cannot fail to please the eye, as well as entertain the fancy. 

Traglio : I should be charmed. 

Sparrowdale : Come, my dear Traglio, Lady Sparrowdale charms 
everything, the honors not excepted. 

Lady S. : My Lord is in a good vein. 

Sparrowdale : Go, we. 

Traglio : Lady, adieu. Madam, I attend. (Exit arm in arm with 
Lord and Lady S.) 

George : Fair lady, as the wherefore of my visit must be known to 
you, I trust you will excuse the liberty I take, coming to the point 
without delay, confessing at the same time my dislike of the painful 
situation. 

Emily : Sir ! Had you questioned my dislike, the meeting would have 
spared us both the taking place. ' ^ 

George : My Lady ! I am av/are of it. But I come as the passive, 
robed in my love, to do devotion at your spotless shrine. 

Emily : If you have manhood, you will spare me. 

George : Begging mercy already ? Surely not. 

Emily : The hypocrit is ever decked in show. 

George : My Lady, I lay no claim to know the terms in which you 
speak of me. I am as I am. 

Emily : Why parade objections — mere words, where the task is 
vain the real purpose underlying framing sterner passion ? 

George: You do me wrong, great wrong. O! You judge me blind, 
believe me. 



Lord Sparroivdale. 



Emily : Knowing the aversion with which I still regard you, is it 
manly to disturb my peace of mind with your advances, hopeless and 
improper in a breath. 

George : O, Lady ! Do not say I could destroy that peace you value- 
Command me, hand and title, 'tis yours at once. 

Emily : Why not proffer a trio of disposals ? Honor also would 
add lustre to the others, I am sure. 

George : Would you taunt my faults ? 

Emily : Sow of seed on untilled soil is barren of result. 

George : Have you no pity for one as I ? 

Emily : Pity, indeed, for an evil schemer. 

George : Nay, hold me in unsavory opinion, I can trust to time' 
what I dare not to your humor. A purpose may seem churlish and 
yet contain its due per cent, of good. Ah ! Were I blest with your 
pure spirit, a million pleasures could not tempt me, so strong am I. 

Emily : O ! You torture me to think I censure your repentance. I 
would have you strong for it all. 

George : I make no secret of my life. The past is one great blot, 
but I presume a living future to obliterate its follies. 

Emily : The association is too unfortunate to dare the risk. I wish 
you well, but leave me out. I can have no interest further. 

George : Pierce me through ! Kill outright ! In mercy, let me 
not exist to know the tempter's face again. 

Emily ; Though I suffer, I must not relax. 

George : O ! Flickering hope, do not go out ! 

Emily: Seek God, against whom you have sinned, His wisdom 
guides alway. Live a life of truth in more than resolution, day by 
day it will be brighter. 

George : I am undone to go the desert way alone. If 'tis for this I 
have my imperfections taught, in vain 'tis all without some stronger 
self than mine. 

Emily : But an invalid will. Cure that. 

George : I have need of prompting. O ! Hear me. 

Emily : I can but marvel at the picture. Were I other than my- 
self, I could well tolerate such promise. 

George : Let me but hope — fondly hope. 

Emily : 'Twere madness to hold out something I have not to 
give. 

George : {Kneels.) Believe me, lady. I listened while you taught 
rne life. The beauty of your mind does woud'rously transform ; as in 
silvery bubbles your purest thoughts gush forth thrilling me. Your 
nobleness, your many virtues, your God-like spirit have left me power- 
less. I am an object of my conscience in arms, 

Emily : Lean on heaven's support. 



8 Lord Sparrowdale. 



George : —And yours ? 

Emily : You have the only answer I can make. I have done. 

George : Bear with me. As heaven is my witness, I will keep the 
promises I make if you will look upon my suit with favor. I love you, 
Emily. My very being depends on your good credit. I pray, be- 
seech, nay, I implore you, do not send me thus away. 

Emily : I weep, but must be firm. 

George : One word, beloved, say it, breathe it, look it and I'll hope. 

Emily : My answer remains the same —I have none to offer. I trust 
you will not molest me further henceforth. I wish you joy. Fare- 
well. {Exit) 

George : Is't possible, O ! Is't possible. {Enter Lord Sparrowdale.) 

Sparrowdale. What luck ? How fared you i' the encounter ? 

George : Ha, ill ! Most ill. Ill to disconsolation. 

Sparrowdale : She refused you, then ? 

George : Aye, spurned advance absolute. 

Sparrowdale : Out upon her. She knows my temper. 

George : O ! Hers is none the lacking, either. 

Sparrowdale : Not ? We'll see to that later. 

George: The marriage is out of question, such feeling against 
it. I could have longed for better. 

Sparrowdale : 'Tis the main feature. I'll stake my life it is the issue. 

George : Maybe — but with 'tother fellow. 

Sparrowdale : What riddle now ? 

George : Why, your gentleman of courtly person — polished manner. 
Sure the maid is refuged there. Her bosom moves, sweet poison 
whispered in her ear adducing much pleasure. Under the tuition her 
spirit is revived. She feels no apprehension. O, he loves her and she 
returns him fondly. Mark their every look quote love. Marriage, 
indeed, ay, ay, 'twill be the issue. 

Sparrowdale : Vipers ! C/ome, be we equal to the provocation, by 
choosing cunning our loved vocation. {Exit together.) 

{End of Act 1.) 



ACT 2. 

Scene I. -- Halgath Castle Gardens. 

{Enter Driscoe and Linton.) 

Linton : Nature has not hewn us out of stone, no more than it has 
made this castle. 

Driscoe : We must bide the time. To remonstrate the Baron, in- 
vites his bitter hatred on us, whom he would not spare, singling out as 



Lord Sparroivdale. 9 

objects of displeasure to vent his spite on. No, no, no. We might re- 
morse one of a bending will, but be once minded of a thing defies the 
world to keep hira from it. 

Linton: His treatment of these women is damnable. It quite un- 
mans me to think what they suffer, 

Driscoe : Let us not be foolish helping them, going about the task 
reckless of consequences. Why, man, what would you have us do — 
go mad ? Crave we the rather his favor than his sport, and we do all 
the readier service. 

Linton: Think you ; I could beat him none too soon. I chafe 
at it, 

Driscoe : So you shall, but be advised against haste. Sir Harry is 
short in his dealings. 

Linton : What is your plan ? 

Driscoe : Proceed we thus ; things shape their course awhile ; 
Lady Emily can hold out no longer against the hateful marriage, then 
it is time to act. She must leave her father's house. I have bespoke 
your foster-mother's aid in the flight and she consents to refuge the 
lady until the Baron's right senses can come back to him again. 
Linton : Will Emily do it ? 

Driscoe : Perhaps not, because of her mother. The question is open 
still, amending as the time may fit. All this is later solving, however. 
Linton : Could we not induce the lady to marry secretly. Traglio 
loves her well, and would take care of her and the Baron too. 

Driscoe : I doubt if she would lend herself to this clandestinely. 
But we will speak anon. Do nothing to make the Baron suspect us 
for the present. -Traglio being with us, we will confederate to make 
one common cause. And so away to watch for duty's call, which 
answer we prepared. {Exit Enter Emily and Lucy.) 
Emily : I can go no further, Lucy. Let us sit here, 
Lucy : It is a tranquil spot. 

Emily : Do you know, Lucy, I can envy nature this great peace? 
Her calm is everything and beautiful, and how disconsolate are we. 
Here competition is from higher things to higher still, nature compet- 
ing and ambitious only to surpass itself. 

Lucy : It is indeed strange what works it can perform. 
Emily , Nay, it is wonderful, and what is our poor effort compared 
to it? We strive on one anothers fall, struggling for the gain imper- 
fectly, and succumb to that ambition ue see here to last for all time. 
Truely, it is marvelous. {Enter Mary Driscoe.) 
Mary : Marvelous — marvelous. Truely — truely. 
Emily : Who is this woman, Lucy, and what seems to be her grief? 
Lucy : A poor wanderer, supplied with means enough, but who will 
sit for hours watching and waiting, communing with herself the while. 
Mary : The fine lady ; indeed a lady. But tell me, my fjne lady, 
where is grief? 



10 Lord Sparrowdale. 



Emily : The poor creature seems demented. 

Mary : — I know the monster. He is a devil. Makes love, marries 
— and grieves. 

Lucy : She has some method about her, ever fixing the same manner. 

Emily : Inquire her name, Lucy. 

Lucy : You hear, woman, the lady speaks to you ? 

Mary : Yes, yes ; the time has been. I hate names. 

Emily : Your grievance of the world seems deep indeed, that you 
can hate with such fervour. 

Mary : Seems and indeed ? O, not to me ; I suffered real. You 
wring your hands much the same as I in years gone by. You are 
beautiful and good. So was I then, but the wretched tale was told 
since. 

Emily : You are not so old to have seen so much. 

Mary : I have stared at wrongs that would turn your hair the color 
of mine, were they yours, and stared at them till these two eyes, once 
like yours, grew dim and lost lustre. 

Emily : I am the most sympathetic listener, good woman. Some 
day tell me more of your story. You will find me attentive. 

Lucy : My Lady, Driscoe beckons. — 

Mary : There, there, my memory sits up. O, call again ! (Enter 
Driscoe. Speaks with Emily.) 

Emily : We are called, Lucy. 

Mary : Who is he of that name ; her father ? 

Lucy : No, madam, his steward. Her father is my Lord Sparrow- 
dale yonder. 

Mary : Is he her father ? Sir Harry your father, my lady ? 

Emily : There's something troubles the woman. 

Driscoe : Speak to her. 

Mary : Why, what ails this poor woman ? Truth — truth — truth. 
(Exit.) 

Driscoe : Is she mad ? 

Emily : Alas ! I fear it. (Enter Linton.) Come hither, Linton. 
Saw you the old woman as you came by ? 

Linton : Yes, my Lady, and questioned me most strange. 

Emily: Keep look of her. She may be needy assistance, being 
mad, which I do fear she is. 

Linton : I'll see to it as you desire. Lady. (Exit Emily and Lucy) 
Saw you the wierd woman, too ? 

Driscoe : Aye, but paid no heed of her. 

Linton : She is about since yesterday, and but now greeted me with 
the title of Baron. 

Driscoe : She is mad, no doubt. 



Lord Sparrowdale. 11 



Linton : Much the same, but seems to know the history of her time 
as well as we verse ours. 

Driscoe : Not unlikely. The mad head pents the trifle, the saner 
would not yield. 

Linton : All her say is so convincing. Traglio is her friend, and 
him she has descendant and heir to the proudest title in England, 
while in the Baron's household is one dead, not so in fact save by the 
Baron's report, he having done her other greater wrong besides. 

Driscoe : Very strange. It would seem more than mere fancy. 

Linton : She lost me in admiration. But see, she comes again. 

Driscoe : Go apart to hear if she speak further. (Enter Mary 
Driscoe.) 

Mary : The master doing service in his house. 

Linton : You hear. 

Driscoe : There is no fever, apparently. The mind's steady enough, 
wandering but little. 

Linton : What may she want, motioning her hands in the frantic 
manner ? _ 

Driscoe : Don't you see it's the Baron she burns at ? 

Linton : She holds him in some manner. 

Driscoe : I'll warrant. She speaks again. 

Mary : Demon ! 

Driscoe : Hark ! 

Mary : Shake, Lord, in the proud castle. Your turn comes next. 
(^Exit.) 

Linton : Why so being gone, my Lord should breathe freer. 

Driscoe : We must probe the mystery ; for that it is such, and she 
knew the Baron sometime, I feel certain. 

Linton : She may have information valuable against the Baron, 
serving us. 

Driscoe : Follow her to see where she puts up. We may need her 
yet. 

Linton : I'll do so ; it can't be far. 

Driscoe : Report progress by return. 

Linton : I have the order. 

Driscoe : Speed, Linton ; but cautious. (Exit.) 

Scene II. — Mowbray Castle. 

Enter Earl of Hinsington, Lord Sparrowdale. 

Earl : But you forget, my dear Baron, that this involves the des- 
tiny of two persons. 

Sparrowdale : Nay, I am alive to it. Do you think for a moment I 
were in doubt, that I would sacrifice my daughter ? I know Lord 
George too well. Is he not generous and reformed ? 



12 Lord Sparrowdale. 



Earl : Only bear in mind, I oppose the union if your daughter is 
not willing in the matter. 

Sparrowdale : All I ask is your approval if she is so. 

Earl : We must give them plenty time that no mistake of choice is 
made on either side. 

Sparrowdale : I voice the sentiment exactly. {Enter George reading 
Bible.) Observe, is it not commendable ? 

Earl : Most worthy. 

George : Ah, my Lord ! This is a welcome visit. In my exile, re- 
penting past offence, I cherish friends with open-armed affection. 

Sparrowdale : It is pleasure to hear you say it. 

George : Alas ! My Lord father — 

Sparrowdale : Truely a deep repentance. 

George : Observe, Sir Harry, this noble father and the son, whose 
error brought the venerable parent's grief to what you see it. 

Sparrowdale : O, deep repentant boy. 

Earl : Practical enough, if he's not expedient putting it on. 

George : My Lord, I feel the weight of your reproof. Let me be 
guided by your wisdom. 

Earl : How shall we know your present guise is honest and not 
put on to serve for the time. By what act can we judge of your sin- 
cerity ? 

George : By this most holy book — the Bible. 

Sparrowdale : Reverent he holds the book in sacred estimation. 

Earl : Verily, he does. 

George : O ! Had I known these truths before, I would not now 
afflicted beg their charity. Dismay has filled my hardened heart. 
My errors ridicule me and stir up an immoral memory. But see how 
firm I hold to life -repentance grasps at piety. 'Tis an exhausting 
strife. 

Earl : O, excellent ! The pride may yet be mine to have so good a 
son— piety itself. 

Sparrowdale : Now say how you were received, and does my daugh- 
ter return your love ? 

George : She does. I made no secret of my life. When I began re- 
citing of my lowly worth, a sleep seemed to benumb my sense of 
shame ; a waking dream her gentle spirit seemed to haunt. Her eye 
was sad, melancholy sat upon her brow. As I recounted all my misery, 
showing each print false fancy had trod deep, her bosom moved, lips 
set firm as though unuttered sorrow she would stifle. She sought not 
my degradation, but pityingly wept, and I not sleeping yet awoke to 
flee the conscience torturing me. But innocence in tears stood by re- 
proaching with tender smile, and in consoling tones bade hope bear 
with me yet awhile. 



Lord Sparrowdale. IS 

SparrowdaJe : You see, my Lord, there is no art employed. 'Tis 
plain there's no design practiced here. Join we in witness of good 
cheer, and guide this act according to the dictates of our fondest and 
most reasonable desire. 

Earl : Be it so with all my heart. 

George : How can I thank you ? 

Earl : Be henceforth steadfast — I ask no more — a nobleman in con- 
duct, and what I should place before the deserving husband of so good 
a wife. 

George : I will strive to please, and call 'pon gods and men to wit- 
ness this, my solemn promise. 

Earl : Look to it. 

George : 'Tis my desire. 

Earl : Make progress under our eye. At your leisure, gentlemen. 

Sparrowdale: Our sorrow is attendant ever. {Sparwivdale and 
George boiv loiv. The Earl going off turns once more to look at them 
and Exit.) 

George : That trial were a safe one being past. 

Sparrowdale ; Not quite, there is danger still to expect should 
Traglio gain the hearing he craves. Say you he has announced him- 
self to-day ? 

George : Even now he comes. (Enter Traglio.') 

Sparrowdale: Be wary— he is to fear. 

Traglio : The confederates, as usual — in league. 

Sparrowdale : Friend, what's the cheer ? 

Traglio : None the best ; even sad. 

Sparrowdale : In this sunny Earldom ? 'Tis the very seat of cheer 
Go to ! 

Traglio : I know certain things quite prominent, that have so tem- 
pered my belief, white is black without astonishing the least. 

Sparrowdale : I entreat, sir. I cannot argue out of my own house. 

Traglio : Nor in it, else I'm a steward's daughter. 

Sparrowdale : A very jester. 

Traglio : Aye, steward's daughter these six and twenty years. 

Sparrowdale : Out upon your steward and his daughter. What do 
you mean? 

Traglio : You see this woman erred, not because she would or of 
herself— there's more in it, for here the man appears, a worthy gentle- 
man. Well, to be brief, he shamed her miserably — completely. But 
soft, you can recite of her as well as I, perhaps, in which event, pro- 
ceed. 

Sparrowdale : A truce on her and your odd fancies. I know aught 
of this fallen woman. 



14 Lord Sparroivdale. 



Traglio : I trust your memory to set her right. My business here 
being elsewhere, I'll after it to know it better. Your leave, gentlemen. 
{Exit) 

George : What nonsense bespoke he about the steward's daughter ? 

Sparrowdale : Will the Earl admit him, do you think ? 

George : Not he ; the servants are too knowing for that. 

Sparrowdale : Who can the fellow be, daring to beard me thus ? 
Torture ! Can it be the heir ? And the woman, Mary ? 

George : 'Tis a pity, Sir Harry, you put up with this fellow's im- 
pudence. 

Sparrowdale : Distraction on't, we must get rid of him. There's 
grave matter ahead. 

George : The Earl's eccentric whim is sure to possess objectionable 
virtue. 

Sparrowdale : The danger lies not there, it is this Traglio we have 
to fear. We must hit upon some plan to strike at him ere he can get 
at us. . 

George : Just so. 

Sparrowdale . We are advanced, but not sure. Do your part fully ; 
I depend on you. 

George : I am yours in everything. 

Sparrowdale : We will have need of great care and action — remem- 
ber that. 

George : I will be keenly both. {Exit Sparrowdale C. George L. 



Curtain.) 



(End of Act 2.) 



ACT 3. 
Scene I. — Halgath. Inside the Castle. 

(Enter Lord Sparrowdale.) 

Sparrowdale : All's well that so ends. A goodly saying, but it's 
fatuity applies the course doing it. Why do mortals conspire fatal 
ends ? H'm, if providence never sleeps, why the gods yet tolerate 
great wrong is mystery. The ills of life are born of treachery and 
malice ; still conception is the dull believer. If future being is not one 
of everlasting sleep, eternal suffering as preventative of sin is not ef- 
fective either. Is there mortal spirit can boast a placid peace ? Is 
not the world the mighty battlefield where follies in contention array 
vanity to war upon based principle ? That man's a hero who fool him- 
self, yet confirms grave wisdom that knowledge is not followed by con- 



Lord SparroTudale. 15 



viction, nor intellect a sturdier factor than his ignorance. Man is 
weak because of weakness made the mold, then what more natural 
than this weakness excusing his ills, irrational, fickle, frail, all. O, 
what a woman were she born to live yoked to submission and never 
restive, were not that peace in all sufiiciency to stand cross purpose 
still, and man from vice released ? Fie on these questions, ambition's 
not yet graved ; the way to it is better paved. (Enter Linton?) Let 
Lady Emily understand I wish to see her. {Exit Linton.) Fruit in 
season offenses not the taste, and while yet hot, hard iron yields the strike; 
the one once over-ripe unrelished goes to waste, the other cold bends to 
the smith's dislike. {Enter Emily.) Girl ! I will no longer suffer 
your excuses. I must teach you obedience. 

Emily : Spare me, father. I am not strong to-day ; to-morow, if 
you will, I'll hear you patiently. 

Sparrowdale : My dear, poor child. 

Emily : O, father ! 

Sparrowdale : I am deeply grieved. 

Emily : Your kindness moves me, dear father. 

Sparrowdale : A daughter, and conduct so unnatural. 

Emily : Forgive me, if I seem so. 

Sparrowdale : Why do you fear me ? 

Emily : No, no, it is not you I fear, but the terrors of a dreadful 
fate. 

Sparrowdale : Foolish girl, my purpose is intended for your good. 

Emily : I prize happiness above a hollow distinction. 

Sparrowdale : Think of the great station. 

Emily : It is title without comfort in this instance. 

Sparrowdale : Away ! Leave my embrace. Fondle as we will, the 
viper stings feeding the wound destructive poison. Look at the 
woman ill-tempered, vixenish and whimish moods. I read your face as 
'twere written proof; this is no fear but blank despair. What idiotic 
sorrow do you grieve ? 

Emily : O, father ! My dear father. 

Sparrowdale : A truce on this. Answer me. 

Emily : I dare not ask forbearance. 

Sparrowdale : Your stubborn conduct is a bitter friend. Beware ! 

Emily : 'Tis useless. I cannot touch your sympathy. 

Sparrowdale : Will you marry Lord Hinsington ? 

Emily : I cannot, father ! O, I cannot ! 

Sparrowdale : Girl, take care what you answer. Will you marry 
Lord Hinsington ? 

Emily : I implore you, my Lord, desist for the present. 

Sparrowdale : Have you ears, woman? 

Emily: Father! Father! 



16 Lord Sparrowdale. 



Spafrowdale : This understanding mocks endurance. Unloose your 
tongue and wag it not in jest, or by my soul! Inherit full the fury of 
my hate. Let world and gods look on amazed. I have this purpose, 
girl, and you defeat it, but to pay the sacrifice. 

Emily: O! What shall I do ? 

Sparrowdale : Concern yourself, I warn you, and do not beard my 
rage. Will you marry Lord George ? 

Emily : In the sight of heaven I am justified refusing to contract 
my misery. No ! I will not — cannot marry him. 

Sparrowdale : You shall, and were objection as a mountain, my con- 
fidence must move it obedient to my will. Do you hear me, girl — 
within the month, you marry him. 

Emily : Spare me, father ! 

Sparrowdale : Not in this. 

Emily : I pray your mercy. 

Sparrowdale : I'll hear no more. 

Emily : Nay, on my bended knee, I implore you — spare me ! Do 
what else you will, but do not sacrifice me to the horrible doom. O ! 
God ! Heaven ! Save me from the fate. O ! Pity, cannot the sight of 
this move e'en you, a father, to be manly and forbear? 

Sparrowdale : Have done, I say. 

Emily : Then whisper conscience, perdition yawn thy terror, agony 
of spirit ignite aflame, that insanity may look on depleted, bold, un- 
sexed, loathing the father's relish of a foul creed — 

Sparrowdale : Girl ! Girl ! 

Emily : Relent, good, my Lord, my afiection is engaged already. 

Sparrowdale ; What's that ? 

Emily : I cannot bear the suflTering, nor will you I should, if it kill 
me. 

Sparrowdale : I know of no attachment. 

Emily: 'Tis true. 

Sparrowdale : With whom'? 

Emily : Ambrose Traglio. 

Sparrowdale : Aha, confessed at last. And do you think for this 
brave 'venturer I'll step aside? Not if he made the way more diflS- 
cult a thousand times, would I stop to go it to the bitter end, the vil- 
lain defending every foot of it by inches. 

Emily : Is there no way but this ? O, Ambrose ? 
Sparrowdale: What means this humble mien ? Arise, and begone ! 
Imprisoned in your room, we'll see which wins : we'll be stubborn to 
the death. Go ! 

Emily : Let me speak, father — 

Sparrowdale : Not another word, or I will fear to lose control over 
my restraint, giving freedom some unreasonable actioii. (Exit jEJmily.) 



Lord Sparrowdale. 17 



As for the bold Italian, we'll soon get rid of him if measures clothed in 
law can restrict him as suspicious from our presence. His movements 
need hemming. {Enter Linton.) Is the steward within ? 

Linton : He is absent since early morn, when a messenger arrived 
who seemed to bear him touchy news, for with pallid countenance he 
stared on vacancy. 

Sparrowdale : Could you not learn the nature of the message and 
where the call ? 

Linton: Your patience, good my Lord. The messenger, alarmed 
at the delay, — for he throughout displayed pressing haste —now called 
him to himself even out of painful doubting, when conscious of some 
quest, he displayed vigor astonishing to behold ; nourishing the hurt, if 
such it was, in preparation busied, relaxed he none till on his steed he 
sat erect — as 'twere hewn out of mortal substance — statue of deter- 
mination, awful power. The question where away, touched deep the 
grief. His bosom moved and lips of livid hue, comprest, served not 
his will, for with half stifled sobs, emotion vain confined thus touch- 
ingly escaped, to make observers pitiable inclined. 

Sparrowdale : Go on. 

Linton ; To end the scene, I asked what answer to my Lord ? O, 
the change, the fire of his soul glowed in their burning sockets ; dis- 
torted, fierce, unmoist they gleamed, unnatural, brilliant. His look 
shot hate, revenge, fury tied his tongue, and digging deep the spurs, 
the steed reared high, plunged wildly forward to obey, and like some 
legendary evil as of old, bore him thus threatening swift away. 

Sparrowdale: Strange. What can it forecast? 

Linton : In bitterness within, by wrath consumed, the message fell 
victim of his mad ire. The rider's passion in goading on the steed a 
moment relaxed the tight grip of his hand, when, this fragment taking 
wing escaped, and in broken lines contains whereto the flight. {Holds 
it.) 

Sparrowdale : (Snatches it.) Give here. Ha ! Tis as I suspected 
Yet how can this be, at death's door six and twenty years ago, and 
dying but to-day ? O, false security ! Methought the secret of my 
brother's heir perished in her grave, and only now the portals gape to 
silence her. What of this hasty summons ? I feel he knows all, aye, 
knew it ere he went. But my nephew — the thought of him troubles 
me most ; if she lived to tell him of his fate— I am undone. 

Linton? My Lord — 

Sparrowdale : Ha ! You here ! What's the hour ? 

Linton : About the tenth, my Lord. 

Sparrowdale : Well, see about it, time hanging heavy on your hands 
will give you something else to do than pry. (Exit Linton.) But, 
now I think of it, she did not even know he was my brother's son. 
Still this other guilt much troubles me. (Re-enter Linton.) What, 
here again, — and the dial ? 



18 Lord Sparrowdale. 



Linton : Marks the half-past, my Lord. 

Sparrowdale : Well, sit you down before the clock and watch for 
me the flight; look close to note each moment spend, each minute drag 
the hour sure to end ; when summoned hasten with the news that fate 
is after us to catch the like at any rate. 

Linton : My Lord, this letter is from one who w^ould it should be 
yours immediately. 

Sparrowdale : Then why stand there bandying as if existence were 
an idle suberstition ? Give here, — now go, and leave no duty disturb 
the solving of your study. {Exit Linton.) (Beads.) "The Earl still 
doubts us, and comes hither this very day to establish our truth. 
George." There's no time to lose. She shall bend to my will if I 
must instill obedience by main force. (Exit) 

Scene II. — An Apartment at an Inn Neak Halgath. 

(Enter Traglio.) 

Traglio ! If I but knew what shade to put upon these things ? This 
woman brings me here to find a home at home, and finds despair in- 
stead. She mourns her father and finds him mourning her. She tells 
fate is in it, but fails to add in what. She taxes me with something I 
should be, but am not, and somebody I am but know not that I am 
unless she prove it, and that by more than words. She is not mad, nor 
ill, and yet but foot within this place, she says all this, prepares to die 
by sending for her father to hear the end of it, and there's an end on't 
as far as ever I may know. (Enter Briscoe.) Is she better ? 

Driscoe : Aye, — out of all earthly misery. 

Traglio: Not dead? 

Driscoe : Even now dead, and her gentle spirit with the saints. 

Traglio : I am loser with you, never knowing mother's smile but 
hers. From infancy taught love as loved by one who taught better 
than was taught her. God grant, suffering o'er, holy peace is hers. 

Driscoe : Sweet, tranquil peace. 

Traglio : Cheer up, friend, better will come. 

Driscoe : It will, eh ? Oh ! Dire disturbed state come now, — come 
visitant of sickened slumbers now ; come as the fiends carousing as in 
hell ; stir his conscience, — attack his fears which prey on him ; en- 
gage his dullness, fatting on his evils to the fill, stop short his further 
doing and hurl the monster horrible depths, e'en to the very strong- 
hold of strong-holds — perdition's self. 

Traglio : A fast hold for the victim once the curse has tied him 
there. 

Driscoe : Hark, you, Traglio, I came in time. God be praised that 
spared her breath until her wrongs were told. She was my daughter, 
and told me such I would have doubted, had it not issued from dying 
lips gentle as truth, which she said could be made valid at the ad- 
dress here written, by demanding a certain parcel described and en- 
tered this within. (Gives letter.) 



Lord Sparrow dale. 19 



Traglio : Why, 'tis directed to the curate of the parish where she 
often told me hope and mother both lay sleeping. 

Driscoe : It is the last request bade, when, murmuring blessing on 
the mission, she died, leaving it you to carry out according her wishes. 

Traglio : 'Tis well. 

Driscoe : Use due haste, for you but hold up a great future tarry- 
ing on the way. 

Traglio : I am aware there's some secrecy about my birth. 

Driscoe : We speak, when you return. 

Traglio : And the Baron ? 

Driscoe : One under his roof, whose restoration will seal his fate. 

Traglio : What, then, becomes of his poor daughter. 

Driscoe : The two ways you already know alone can save her from 
his merciless ambition— union with you — or flight. 

Traglio! Curst ambition ! What a world where justice rusting is 
substituted by customs which undo her even measure. 

Driscoe : But make ready. Stop at Halgath to bind the Baron's 
person for the lady's safety. By way of sharpening the memory of his 
trust, prey on his fears by hinting at them. Threaten by prodding at 
his hurts, of which he nurses some that cut to the quick. 

Traglio ! What you, friend ? 

Driscoe : I abide time. When the moment comes ,this ? — Debts — 
due sums. Now haste you. 

Traglio : One moment with the dead to tell her I obey, then to do 
her wishes, justice on the way. 

Driscoe : I'll arrange to have her borne in ritual grace to decent 
burial in consecrated resting place. {Exit oppositely.') 

Scene III.— Halgath. Inside Castle. 
[Enter Lady Sparrowdale.) 

Lady S. : O ! I feel some dreadful melancholy. He was so angry 
and persistent, and she firm denying him. (Shriek outside.) Hark ! 
A nameless terror dringing to the ear, cries mercy of a new born 
fear. (Enter Emily ^ dishevelled.) 

Emily: Help! Help! 

Lady S. : Alas ! Wherefore is this ? 

Emily : O ! Save me, mother. 

Lady S. : Emily, speak ! What new wrong has been done ? 

Emily : The Earl is coming here to seal the contract of my misery. 

Lady S. : Nay, he comes to save your happiness — not wreck it. 

Emily : My Lord informed me of his coming. By every persuasive 
means in his power, he endeavored to induce that I should practice on 
the kind, good Earl deceit. As oft' before I gently said him nay, — 
maintaining it right, being concerned in my own happiness. The 



Lord Sparrow dale. 



farther we progressed the greater grew his rage, when, having ex- 
hausted peaceful methods, as he termed them, he had resort to force, 
and saying he most solemnly declared me willing to become party to 
the hateful marriage, I, in just indignation, answered he had trans- 
gressed the limits of authority and refused to abet the falsehood to 
sustain him in deceit. Like one bereft, he rushed at me, striking me 
with his hand ; Fearing further violence if I remained to look upon 
his ill behavior, I fled his fury. But he is in pursuit already I hear 
him coming. O, save me, mother ! 

Lady S. : Courage, dearest, I will, if such is possible with my Lord. 

Sparrowdale : ( Without.) I'll swear the girl has drove me mad, or 
is stark mad herself to know me as she does and still persist violating 
my most reasonable demand. {Enters.) If temper soured by degrees 
that did not breed something, may my wrath turn vengeance on me, 
and visit my hand with decay. Ha ! Undutiful, disgraced daughter, 
wrapped in safety of a mockery, the false security of an artful mother. 
Unhand her, madam ! Or by the stars, the horoscope of your unlucky 
destiny, I will not answer for the safety of your persons, if you do 
not so this instant. 

Lady S. : Hold, sir ! My duty, as a mother, is between the, child 
and your unmanly persecution. Is your conduct a father's ? Put you 
severest test on temper that I may passionless review longstanding 
wrong. Do you fancy wretched marriage states ? Look at ourselves 
contracting woe. Who taught me to obey when you demanded and 
dragged me to the altar of deceitful aim ; was it not a father, too— my 
father ? O ! the life wracked by constant tempers, harsh measures full 
and tortured numb by misery of many years. No, no, ray Lord, with 
our example dark upon us, another union with distress abetted rather 
than opposed, is such crime the very abode would not blush dashing 
down. 

Sparrowdale : What extraordinary candor - nay firmness. Un- 
happy mother ! But once for all I am resolved. There's no allusion 
made in your amazing speech but determines me eager as before. She 
surrenders ! — Do you hear me, madam?— Surrenders spite of you. 

Lady S. : Have pity. Be not so insensible of her grief. Love's 
measure fills the liking of her nature ; affections engaged shed halos of 
content 'round her every sentiment. Do not, good my Lord, sacrifice 
such purity on worthlessness. Look from the noble daughter at yon 
subtle coronet ! Is there such thing as talismanic title that can stay 
sorrow's progress once it is upon us ? 

Sparrowdale : Have done. Her previous attachment, being clan- 
destine, forbears sympathy to be considered here. I've taken stand 
and play part action perfect. 

Lady S. : Heaven forbid contamination should be allied her pure 
soul. Remember, my Lord, repentance avails us none than blindly 
going on, when once the heart is heavily anguished. 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Sparrowdale : I tell you, madam, I'll tame her ! And her body of 
life bereft lay in alarming evidence at 'my feet, I'll do it ! I have 
sworn to do it ! {Noise without.) Who's there ? (Enter Linton.) 

Linton : My Lord, the Earl. 

Sparrowdale ; Conduct him hither. (Exit Linton.) Now, girl, ex- 
pose me, disgrace me before this fool ! By the gods ! The impulse my 
temper follows, will be quick. Look well,— he doubts assertions touch- 
ing your consent. Betray me and the knife instruments cursed action 
haunting you unceasing. 

Lady S : Be reasonable, my Lord. 

Sparrowdale : By heavens, I know not the extent to which ven- 
geance carries me if from ' your lips he hears the truth ! Girl, ^my 
honor is at stake, destroy it and yon destroy yourself. So heed it. 
{Enter Earl, George and Linton.) Welcome hither, friends ! This is 
a pleasure all the more real, being unexpected. 

Earl : Nay, nay. Sir Baron, it can be but sorry pleasure which wel- 
comes the giver of offence. Yet I decided on the ill behaved step 
solely to be convinced in person, our action is advisable and sits our 
duty kindly. 

Sparrowdale: Rest easy, good my Lord. I am disposed to humor 
your discredit, and have no reason to look upon the visit otherwise 
than well . 

Earl: My Lady's presence restores confidence. Madame, your 
daughter's happiness gives , us grave concern. She is an ornament in 
excellence — her good qualities deserve the garb she ever wears, shall be 
ease and great comfort. 

Lady S. : I am thankful your Lordship's concern has been grave 
throughout. I trust it remains so further. 

Earl : And Emily, our gentle favorite, what think you of our keep- 
ing ? 

Emily : My Lord, I cannot think but what thought contrived be- 
forehand, connecting you presently as forever favorer of the best. 

Earl : Fear nothing. Our object being modest the interest van- 
ishes we have at stake, if it is against that happiness dear to you as we 
would make it. By your father's sanction my son of late paid you 
marked attention, the philosophy of which was to obtain favor choos- 
ing according to the dictates of a charitable disposition, between that 
son with habits now reformed, and your dislike of his guilty past. 
Think before you answer, using best judgment in the choice. 

Emily : Providence is kind to those who do themselves injustice im- 
parting to others the security they would have in a good resolve. I 
know I am unworthy the trust. (Lord S. would stab himself.) Nay, 
my emotion moves you all. Mark not these tears, friends ; the step I 
take, is one that leads out of present moments into future of uncertain 
mold, and it is thus I take my leave of one sad state, to lose memory of 
it entered in the other. 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Earl : There's something wrong here ! 

Emily : No, no, my Lord, dispel farther doubt. This day forth you 
are my father. 

Earl : It is no light task you render us, dear child. Still, all's not 
cordial as it should be. Speak out, Emily, I am here to close the 
matter honorably, and refuse to consent if but a doubt rest on your 
willingness. 

Emily : {As Lord S. threatens.) I assure you, my Lord, my resolu- 
tion balanced outweighs objection to so full a measure, that my already 
made consent now binds me doubly to the contract. 

Earl : Then I rejoice indeed, and pray you prosper both. I thank 
you, gentle lady You, George, have now to tell us true, that you will 
not confound the trust we placed in you, but prove it to the last day of 
your lives ! 

George : My father, witness my fair renown. I call on you to testi- 
fy it is truth uttej-ed, when I say her comfort is the object I will seek, 
- devotion to her happiness, my future life. 

Earl: Nobly said, my son ! Do as honest as you promise, and the 
result cannot be wanting. Is Emily not well ? 

Lady S. : By your leave, my Lord, my daughter is not strong in 
such a scene. 

Earl : She has much in her nature that commends itself to ours* 
Come hither, gentle maiden —daughter ! God bless you !' 

Emily : And you, my kindest father and guardian of my happiness. 
O 1 Good-bye ! [Exit with Lady S.) 

Sparrowdale : How stands the matter now ? 

Earl : If I can estimate, she comprehends principal and dividend. 
Have you set day already? 

Sparrowdale : Not difinite. 

Earl : Choose meeting her wishes. She should be satisfied. 

Sparrowdale : We shall consult her. 

Earl : Look to your conscience, boy, I caution you. 

George : I am on the defensive, father, — 'tis my new mettle. 

Sparrowdale : My son, a word aside. The potion is mixed, take it 
up passing out. 

George : Is the step necessary now ? 

Sparrowdale : It is safer in the end. 

Earl : Baron, by grace, your son is mine until your daughter is 
mine also. 

Sparrowdale : Excellent humor. 

Earl : Come, son, your father has good spirit, we leave him full en- 
joying. 

Sparrowdale : The like you. Earl, and better health soon. (Exit 
Earl and George.) Triumph at last ; victory won ; campaign o'er — 



Lord Sparrowdcble. 



piety the victim, going hence contented. What fools inhabit this ad- 
vanced age, failing to see the knave for his fair looks, the which he 
lurks behind honester. Who says con:imon sense exceeds stupid trust 
these days ? Who says we play fool ? The dupe is gone before — lead 
on, dupe ! {Exit. Curtain.) 



{End of Ad 3.) 



ACT 4. 

Scene I. — Halgath. Inside the Castle. 

{Enter Sparrowdale and Li7iton.) 

Sparrowdale : I will not see him. 

Linton : He assures, my Lord, his business being pressing, he will 
not keep him long. 

Sparrowdale : Well, send him about it. I will not see the fellow. 
{Enter Traglio.) 

Traglio : I beg pardon. Do I intrude ? 

Sparrowdale : Sir ! How dare you such behavior on our privacy ? 

Traglio : My Lord, most pressing business commands that I should 
leave this instanter to journey on the continent. 

Sparrowdale : That is of little moment here. 

Traglio : Thread the way there — 'tis open. Here is hand, this arm 
invests with strength, the power directing which is soul ; what with 
conscience and good faith this combination allies cause, and holds ag- 
gresion tamed as yet for your sake, but is prepared withal to strike at 
wrong. 

Sparrowdale: I conjure you, my admiration falters not the least ex- 
citement to arouse it. 

Traglio : Though not defenders of the wily foe, we must be lenient. 
You have a daughter ? 

Sparrowdale : Now you surprise me. There may be truth in such 
question. 

Traglio : How is her mind, my Lord. 

Sparrowdale : Perfectly at ease of you, fellow. 

Traglio : 'Tis rumored different. 

Sparrowdale . By which, no doubt, you mean to say, I am responsi- 
ble for the minds of irrational women. 

Traglio : Baron, if you persist abusing the duty you owe Lady 
Emily, there are those near who will take care to owe it her them- 
selves. 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Sparrowdale : Sir ! What means this insolence ? 

Traglio : She is in person well beloved, of gentle mien and virtue, 
I dare you to hold in ill contempt. 

Sparrowdale: This is too much. Who are you, then, that dictate 
methods for my right behavior ? 

Traglio : I can tell one woman's fate. Will you hear it ? 

Sparrowdale : Leave the room — instantly depart. 

Traglio : Understand me, give the promise we exact and I pledge 
you my word your brother's title will find his happy son. 

Sparrowdale: By heaven, insolent Italiau, if you escape with life 
enough to mourn, you may thank the fates I spare you so much. 

Traglio : Would you excite the wrath of friends ? 

Sparrowdale : Show us an enemy. 

Traglio : Friends ! For your daughter's sake. Be it known she is 
affianced to me? 

Sparrowdale : My house afford adventurers shelter ? Out of this ! 

Traglio : I stand so high in her esteem, that when I next return, she 
is to be my wife. I acquaint you of this now, because then I will have 
by me such proof of my identity, which cannot fail to meet even your 
approval. 

Sparrowdale : Ha ! To-day in the presence of the Earl, she accepted 
Lord George. 

Traglio : Unnatural father ! Mark me ! Relentless as your own, so 
shall be our conduct, and merciless dealing with you. A cloud of 
dire result rests above your head. 

Sparrowdale : Let it burst. 

Traglio : Your bond is less than worthless. 

Sparrowdale : But good security as it is. 

Traglio : More fancied, than you make bold. 

Sparrowdale : Man, we stand on't. 

Traglio : The right and title though — 

Saarrowdale: Lie, sir, in our broad possession. 

Traglio : But we have still the law. 

Sparrowdale : And I the dominion. 

Traglio : My Lord, the outlet is yet open ? 

Sparrowdale : Aye, slip out ere it refuses you egress afterward. 

Traglio : Come, was not a brother once who had a son ? 

Sparrowdale : That he had ! Had, I say, but not now has. 

Traglio : And tell me, Sir Harry ! Who was the poor, deluded soul 
dying but lately, after many^years miserably old, yet lamentably young 
to be so ? 

Sparrowdale : Enough ! I scorn to bandy threats longer. {Rings. 
Enter Linton.') Servant ! Conduct this fellow outdoors ! 



Lord Sparrow dale. 



Traglio : Remember, your daughter casts the die. She in the scale 
outweighing the measure of your will, remains untouched, or to bewail 
the folly, will be the result of ambition against the warning. 

Sparrowdale : I am deaf to treason. 

Traglio : Beware how you trifle with us. In your daughter's cause 
I have companions watching every move, who in obedience to my 
orders, link chain of evidence around you, which, when complete, will 
leave little room to doubt, that right is in your brother's son, who lives 
to cast the usurp out. And so, farewell ! (Exit) 

Sparrowdale : My brother's son in truth alive? — Then 1 am lost ! 
And this woman, who can she be ? Ha ! Not the steward's daughter ? 
Why, then, he is himself my brother's son. The danger is imminent 
to my plan, which stands on frail support, if Emily persists in delaying 
the day. She dare not do it now, when haste is as necessary as her 
consent before. The wedding is to-morrow. (Exit.) 

Scene II. — Halgath. The Park Adjoining Castle. Night. 
{Enter Emily and Luey.) 

Emily : There is no one in waiting, Lucy. 

Lucy : AVe may be earlier than the time set. 

Emily : True, dear, and we can w^ait. 

Lucy : We have been so cautious making these preparations, that 
none suspect the movement. 

Emily ; I cannot go, Lucy. O ! I must remain. 

Lucy : My Lady, consider. There is greater danger here than 
where you fly to. 

Emily : But think of my unhappy mother — the thought of her will 
drive me mad. 

Lucy: What if you remained and saw her misery daily growing 
before your very eyes, would that better matters any ? 

Emily: If I were stronger,! would not care so much, but weak as I 
am, Lucy, I feel this parting is from home and her forever. 

Lucy : O, foolish thought to give the step bad ending at set out. 
Hope for the best, dearest Lady, the worst comes too soon without ap- 
prehension. But hush, somebody comes. (Enter Traglio.) 

Traglio : Methinks this is the place. The night is heavy, the 'very 
stillness a weight perishing the sinner suffered to carry it. Alas ! 

Emily ; Alas ! Indeed ! 

Traglio : O ! Mournful wail breaking upon the great calm. Speak ! 
What saddened mortal ails? Is it you indeed, Emily ! Ah, that this 
moment is because you would not trust me. 

Emily ; Forgive me, friend. My father's harsh exactions seem me 
unkinder than I am really. I fly his reach to-night to escape worse 
following. It is the only course left me. 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Traglio : Have I not your promise ; now but confide the care of you 
to me without reserve, and by to-morrow our union scorns further vio- 
lence. 

Emily : You forget I am bound solemnly. My hand is pledged be- 
yond the possibility of a more desirable sequel. Leave me to my fate. 

Traglio : Deplorable ! O ! Unhappy girl, speak to me — pity me, 
nay, command me, dearest one ; I will do your every bidding. 

Emily : I have nothing more to ask. Forget me and be happy 
again. (Enter Linton.) 

Linton : My Lady, all is in readiness waiting you. 

Traglio : Give me leave to bear you company. 

Emily : It cannot be and might give rise to ill reports. I go alone. 
Good-bye ! Leave me now. We may never meet again. 

Traglio : O, we will ! We will ! We will ! 

Emily : Soft, true oue. Look at that light fixed in a certain win- 
dow of the castle. It is my mother's room. Perchance she has dis- 
discovered I am gone and is praying for me. Oh, my friend, if you 
but knew the pain the parting causes in my heart ; why, all the suf- 
fering gone before is but a feeble wound, compared to this one great 
endurance. 

Traglio : Alas, poor mistress ! Poor maid ! 
'f Emily : Home, and happiness, and mother ! Oh ! I could weep the 
fountain of my sorrow dry at the anguish she will feel, and weep 
afresh, my love, thinking of you and parting hopelessly forever ; and 
weep and ever weep when I look back at these familiar scenes, the sole 
companions of my solitude, the silent spectators of childhood's fond 
delights and listen to hear again the whispering rivulet make its 
music and refrain to fonder hopes; but all will be unanswering, 
soothed, hushed, at rest. Even the stars will deck the canopy in 
peaceful lustre. Heaven send its blessing on it all from there above. 
Alas ! Farewell ! 

Traglio : Speed out of sorrow, dearest one, until we meet again. 
Farewell ! (Exit Emily, Lucy and Linton.) Oh, woe ! Tyrant, fiend, 
ambition's slave. Your fall is ripe, the evil of your might has a brief 
lease. {Exit.) 

Scene III. -Halgath. The Portico Kear of Castle. 
(Enter Sparroivdale.) 
Sparrowdale : Her room empty, the castle in silence as if life was 
perished and every room the habitation of a spectre. What restless 
fear possesses me ! Can it be the eye of night which sees these hideous 
things reflected in mine? Why, the very face of things is haggard with 
these fancies. Can it be the guilty mind, — the monster, conscience ? 
Ha ! Torture as of hell, it must be this sensation bringing home us, the 
surety of fate is out reaping harvest of each sinner's sowing. Hold ! 
Devil ! Stand where you are, and answer, ere you move again — who 
are you.? (Enter Linton C.) 



Lord Sparrow dale. 27 

Linton : It is I, my Lord — Linton. 

Sparrowdale : O ! Great relief. Well, what news ? 

Linton : We searched 'round about without the slightest trace — 
save this. 

Sparrowdale : Her 'kerchief. Where, where, Linton ? 

Linton : My Lord — (Lady S. appears on balcony.) 

Sparrowdale: Where foundst it? Quick, villain, or I tear the 
words from your tongue's tip. 

Linton : I found it close to the water's edge outskirting these Baron- 
ial woods. And see, 'tis sprinkled with some wet as like an heavy ob- 
ject in resistless fall striking surface such force, as would seem this 
messenger of a most lamentable trace. 

Lady S. : O ! Horrible truth, is it come to this ? O, God ! Heaven I 
Give me back my child, my Emily, my all ! (Retreats moaning and 
wringing hands.) 

Linton : Poor soul, if I but could have spared her the agony of the 
lie. 

Sparrowdale : Ha ! Too much desolation to be borne properly. Con- 
tamination on minds that cannot grasp the even as best, but must 
bring destiny to pace in feverish haste — existence quickened end. O ! 
Would the wound were healed — misfortune yet undone. {A bell tolls 
measured in distance.) Hark ! There sounds a knell ! 

Linton : 'Tis for the Earl they toll, his soul having left its earthly 
scene. 

Sparrowdale : Is he summoned, too ? Methought he was in better 
health lately. 

Linton : Death is come sudden to him. At supper he was hearty, 
making substantial repast. Conducted to bed, he bade God speed and 
resting easy was so left for the night. An hour later his servant, see- 
ing all safely habited, came softly to the room. The stillness struck 
him as unusual. He stood debating with himself, then listened awhile 
still undecided what to do, When now convinced something was 
amiss, he neared his master's side, and to his horror discovered the 
Earl's decease. 

Sparrowdale: I see it all. The danger imminent and the deed in- 
nocent of purpose now as can be. Why could not the fool beard his 
action for the present ? 

Linton : My Lord, what action ? 

Sparrowdale : Ha ! Look you, Linton, beware of useless energies. 
What you do without aim is ever wasted. Though it may be full zest 
at start out, the disappointment will be doleful in the end. There is 
invisible hand in everything, a power shaping purposes, filling desti- 
nies without us. We only score pay according as we earn. (Exit.) 

Linton : Aye, Baron, and you will have the duce to pay besides. 
(Exit. Curtain.) 

(End of Act J^.) 



28 Lord Sparrow dale. 



ACT 5. 

Scene I.— Halgath. Inside the Castle. 

(Enter Driscoe and Linton.) 

Driscoe : I know some things of our good master's knowing, that 
would not bear you company without the thought standing on end in 
very consternation. 

Linton : It seems as we go, one mystery deepens in another. ' 

Driscoe : A pretty pass. The Earl is two months dead, and from his 
tomb cries vengeance, and we that should be doing sit idle by distrac- 
tion's bier waiting it. O, fie ! Why cannot men die natural deaths that 
we need not bewail their ends as doleful. There's my daughter in my 
mind. Methinks I hear her still as when she bade me spend night of 
unrequital wakeful, until one monster run the race to doom. I tell thee 
to wait dire length of time for great events to shape themselves a chan- 
nel, oftener shapes the waiter derangement, because of the inhuman 
strain on his patience. 

Linton : I'll venture with some certainty, that Traglio a few hours 
distant hastens to meet us presently. 

Driscoe : You seem confident. 

Linton : The master had the warning from George that he is coming. 

Driscoe : How seemed the Baron humored with the news ? 

Linton : Not pleasant, though he was downcast all the morn before 
receiving the message. In my belief, he is more in sorrow than ap- 
prehension. 

Driscoe : Could not you trace the despondency ? 

Linton : None, save a letter that came by early post. 

Driscoe : 111 news of his unfortunate daughter perhaps. Was there 
tidings of her lately ? 

Linton : Not these three days, when her illness was said to have 
passed the crisis. 

Driscoe : How does the mistress ? 

Linton : Poor woman, I fear the reason is clouded forever. She is 
passive, but not a moment of sound intellect returns. Hush — there 
she comes. {Lady S. peers into the room and exit.) 

Driscoe : Does she this often ? 

Linton : Constantly. Always searching for the child she lost when 
reason went from her. 

Driscoe : Poor creature. I have her pity close at heart. She de- 
served better mercy. Mark the groups of tenantry observing the hall 
with interest ; and look the ensign swings on yonder tower ! 

Linton : Ha ! The castle mourns ; then Emily is dead. 

Driscoe : Let us silent shed our tears in presence of the mighty 
power that can so grieve us to the utmost. This blow will our friend 
bow down. Woe, Baron ! Fear his wrath. Come, rouse and let us 
hence. {Exit both. Enter Sparrowdale and George.) 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Sparrowdale : And you familiar with his movements could not con- 
trive the way delayed ? 'Twere better you had made the journey one 
without end. 

George: Rely on me no further. We have enough deaths ; now let 
us bury what we have done. Your daughter is dead, true, but not 
buried, and my Lord father sleeps in an open grave. Let us cover 
that also. 

Sparrowdale : To listen to your speech would incline one to think 
you gentle, and unused to look on such sights even. I am fitter schooled. 
Did not you train your father's breath and stop it v^^hen you should 
have patience with the poor old man ? 

George : Who incited the deed ? To satisfy your evil purpose, 'twas 
hellish done. 

Sparrowdale : What interest is there to me in his death ? 

George : All, if the plan had carried to the craving of your curst 
ambition. What interest, say you ? Is not your brother's son alive ? 

Sparrowdale : I have such faith in your continued service, his ex- 
istence untroubles me. Depend oa't, 'tis but question of his life set be- 
fore your courage. 

George: You have more confidence than safety, I'll warrant. 

Sparrowdale: Say you ! Perhaps a doubt raised of your father's 
natural end may change that tenor -more keeping with the business 
we are in. Ha ! Traglio is my brother's son, — he must be slain. You 
have but to come upon him secretly, and 'tis done. 

George : Aha ! 

Sparrowdale : Intriguing suited in your father's case, where prompt 
to act, your horror of this lesser deed seems poorly out of place. 

George : What right have you forcing the new deed farther than 
you dare do it yourself? It is against my will to act in any foul play. 
What's so far done, was with your full knowledge. In the guilt you 
are deeper than I, for you planned and helped cover everything. 

Sparrowdale : Let us see later. (Enter Linton.) Well ! 

Linton : Colonel Traglio seeks my Lord privately a few moments. 

Sparrowdale : Admit him. (Exit Linton.) Our plucky George will 
find place in this room. (Exit George. Enter Traglio.) 

Traglio : Baron, I have but just arrived and came by no public road, 
hasting here on foot, so confess know aught of news. I saw the castle 
mourned. Wherefore is this ? 

Sparrowdale ; My friend, you find us in late misfortune. Illness 
and death made for the lady what I could not. Can you guess it ? 

Traglio : Disconsolate news indeed. It grieves me sore to know her 
life is at the period we must reach some day ourselves. God with her ! 

Sparrowdale : Amen ! With all my heart. He takes it in better 
part than I feared. 

Traglio : But how is Emily ? I hope the loss of her poor mother 
does chastise her with e'en the gentlest touch. 



30 Lord Sparrowdale. 



Sparrowdale : She is well. Ha ! Then I dare not tell him. 

Traglio: How? 

Sparrowdale : I said well — very well. 

Traglio : You are acquainted with my wishes respecting her. As 
I am armed with proper documents, I trust my identity shall find you 
favoring the pretension rather than opposing it. 

Sparrowdale : Would that I could. 

Traglio : Let us mourn the dead for the present, and then the living 
mind. 

Sparrowdale : Even so. What cannot be undone must be borne 
stoutly. 

Traglio : True, so cheer we up again. 

Sparrowdale : My hand on't. 

Traglio : Sorrow deals severest blows where one uncertainty hangs 
on the other's close. But we will cherish further anon. 

Sparrowdale : At your kindest leisure. {Exit Traglio. Re-enter 
George.) 

George : What meant he by important documents ? 

Sparrowdale : They are proofs wherein he clothes the validity of his 
claim. If they're produQed, his right will stand. 

George : A bad outlook for you, Baron. 

Sparrowdale : Quick, follow ! It is no use to retrace steps, now you 
have so far begun. 

George : But I refuse. 

Sparrowdale ; If wise, you will be advised and do it. The guilty 
conscience never stops at further deals. 

George : I debate the charge. You shall know my action later. 

{Exit:) 

Sparrowdale : Away, fool ! The coward's artwork desperately afters 
thee. The chase makes head. (Exit.) 

Scene II. — Halgath, Outside the Castle. The Wood. 
{Enter Driscoe and Traglio.) 

Traglio : I fear them not. 

Driscoe : Nor need you, as we cast no doubt on courage to worst the 
danger, but for safety's sake, go prepared. The foe we deal with, 
would not scruple to attack unawares, and at time we least could face 
him, without due precaution of weapon. 

Traglio : I thank you and will be mindful of the warning to the 
teeth. {Funeral march.) Hark ! See how slow yon sombre cortege 
moves ! 

Driscoe : 'Tis the funeral procession. 

Traglio : They have lost compass, for come they not this way ? 

Driscoe : The body is to lie in state at Halgath these two days. 



Lord Sparroiuclale. 31 



Traglio : Methinks they come from there. Two days ! Marry that 
were to-morrow yet. Say, is it here ia England fashion to make show 
of the dead, by pomp parade two days ere burial ? 

Driscoe: Alas, poor memory. Was not the lady stricken away 
from home ? They bear her body hence. 

Traglio : Then she, too, lived exiled. O ! What a Baron to have 
mercy on. {Enter funeral procession.^ Rest awhile, good friends. Is 
one told off in charge of ceremonies ? 

First Pall-bearer : I, sir, hold such an office. 

Traglio : Do it well with your hirelings. She was a lady of gra- 
cious mien. Due observance of rank by much esteem cannot real her 
worth, e'en thousandth part. 

Driscoe . Willst view the corpse ? 

Traglio : I'll wait her lay in state. {Enter George.) 

George : What do you, fellow, tarrying with your charge ? You 
are waited momently. 

Traglio : Gives he them their command ? 

George : Aye, braggart ! And with right. To you and this mis- 
fortune lay it, that I ara short the law the husband is the wife. 

Traglio : Is it sudden flight of sanity, or dares he unburthen dese- 
crated wit in presence of the dead ? This oversteps mere insolence. 
Stand ye by silent to the base defiling? Why, 'tis monstrous, insulting 
memory of the dead, in presence of their very virtues. 

George : Being just, I brook no parley. Back villain. ( Wounds 
Traglio.) 

Traglio : I pray you take away, this fellow interferes with murther- 
ous intent. 

George . Only paying old scores, of which I owe the many to be 
even with you, {Attachs again.) 

Traglio : Witness, gentlemen, I must defend myself On his head 
the consequences. (They fight.) 

Driscoe: I entreat you, friends, begone. This disgraceful scene 
gives testimony of unholy passion engaged in murderous strife. {Exit 
funeral in disorder.) 

Traglio: Then have it so. Take still another. {George falls.) 

George : You've done for me, 

Traglio : You left me no choice. 

George : This is another of the Baron's villainies. 

Traglio : Saidst not so ? 

Driscoe: I gave thee not unduly warning of his craft. 

Traglio : I'll give bond, I merit not his hate. 

George : He has the proof, you are his brother's son. 

Driscoe : My word on't, he has none save suspicion. 

George : The Earl died by my hand. 



Lord Sparroivdale. 



Traglio : Nay, is the good Earl dead ? 

George : Aye, drugged to death. I mixed poison ia his food. 

Traglio : Ha ! Foul confession. 

George: The Baron was confederate in the deed. He placed the 
poison where it could not fail to be attractive, after he had instigated 
how it could be done. 

Traglio : Wretched fool ! 

George: Defend me — I am faint — mercy on me. (Dies.) 

Traglio : Alas ! ITe is faint of the spell that has no coming to. He 
is dead ! 

Driscoe : But for your trusty sword, you would have grown that of 
sorrow. 

Traglio : These features stiffen like the hard example of a fate. 
What an ornament he might have been. His associates were his ruin. 

Driscoe : Come, sir. 

Traglio : We must not leave him thus. ( Covers body with cloak.) 
Send assistance to remove the body decently. 

Driscoe : He shall have that service last of all. (Exit together.) 

Scene III.— Halgath, Within the Castle. 
(Enter Lady S.) 

Lady S. : Here's more trouble. Tears upon tears and tears. Soft ! 
A voice! What music, — what melod}'' in a voice. Whither do you go 
now ? Is this the grave ? O ! They have laid her beautiful at rest. 
In such spot angels find the weary. — Not dead ! Then why not meet 
us ? She is here ? --Hush ! — Hush ! She sleeps, — Emily ! (Enter 
Sparroivdale.) 

Sparrowdale : Misfortune. Who has done the blunder ? 

Lady S. : Sh ! — See the sweet dream ! 

Sparrowdale : Disturb it not. Give her quiet — the poor thing needs 
quiet. (Leads her.) 

Lady S. : She wakes ! O, from sleep so long. — Still no life!— Will 
this chill never melt? She's dead! Drowned. I'll join her. 

Sparrowdale : Come away, ray Lady. 

Lady S. : O ! Let me join her peaceful rest. 

Sparrowdale : Aye, let's to rest. 

Lady S. : Back, monster ! She withered in your grasp. Ha ! You 
murdered her — struck her — and she fell dead — dead — woe, alas! 

Sparrowdale : I can bear no more. (Exit.) 

Lady S. : Gone ! Dead and gone ! O, woe ! (Exit. Re-enter Sjmr- 
rowdale and Linton.) 

Linton : I think it best advisable, ray Lord, as her friends have 
gathered in num.bers, bep-ging our leave already. 

Sparrowdale : At three o'clock have the body lain in state. 



Lord Sparroivdale. 33 



Linton : It shall be done. Her friends will thank kindly for the 
favor. (Exit) 

Sparrowdale : O ! Day of frenzy and evil-omened cheer ; my 
daughter dead, my poor lady mad, and for myself worse to fear if 
George should fail and Traglio from the deeds commission come out 
alive instead ! Ha ! Perish the thought — away to the woods. (Exit.) 

Scene IV. — Halgath, Without the Castle. The Court. A 

Catafalke Erected Left. 

(Enter Driscoe.) 

Driscoe : The papers forthcoming in proper circumstance, Sir 
Harry's last sun risen, sets gloomy. (Enter Sparrowdale.) 

Sparrowdale : Driscoe ! — 

Driscoe : He, Sir Harry. 

Sparrowdale: Saw you aught of George ? I fear danger has beset 
his way. 

Driscoe : How ? Surely in these broad acres, honest men may move 
safely of their lives. 

Sparrowdale : But if he meet the headstrong Traglio ? 

Driscoe : Then villain dies. Cleanse the air to beautify outlook. 

Sparrowdale : No insolence. In this broad view, my guests are my 
keep. Experience teaches invisible serpents are not harmless, but 
most full of harm in ambush. 

Driscoe : Here comes the foe unhurt enough. Perhaps the meet 
was not taxing. Methinks trouble befell him, ruffling his guard the 
least, whereas determination waxes warmer altogether. (Enter Traglio 
bearing parcel.) 

Traglio : Aha ! How fares the foul campaign ? 

Sparrowdale : We are not here in Italy. 

Traglio : But on good English soil. Yonder lies your protege, slain. 

Sparrowdale : Have notice of the deed given quickly, The evidence 
may breed lawless generations, if left to go unpunished. 

Driscoe : Baron, I have a present from abroad. ( Undoes package.) 

Sparrowdale : A lock of hair. 

Driscoe . Wonderful ! But go on. 

Sparrowdale : There's some mistake here. 

Driscoe : O ! Doubt further ? 

Sparrowdale : Hound ! Was it for this I brought you up these years ? 

Driscoe : But look, perhaps your eyes would still deceive you. Aha, 
dost start ! Guilty wretch. This certifies marriage with my daughter 
prior to your present state. 

Sparrowdale : 'Tis false. 'Tis machination of fiends to work me 
harm. 



Lord Sparrowdale. 



Driscoe : Scoundrel ! — Be not afeared, I would not touch hair of one 
so base ; I wash hands clear of your punishment —the business is not 
mine. {Enter Linton.) 

Linton : Good my Lord — 

Sparrowdale : Another blow dealt by hidden hand. 

Linton : Alas ! Alas ! 

Sparrowdale : Spare me, Linton, from these gentlemen in your de- 
tail. 

Linton : — My Lady's dead ! 

Sparrowdale: O ! I pity to have had her life made curse, and 'wish 
the pathway after it, is less uneven. 

Traglio . He knew her death before, now the mention should touch 
him new. 

Driscoe : Linton, receive your lawful right. 

Linton: (Taking package,) You mean the other. This one's sealed 
by coronet. 

Sparrowdale : Are all men Lords in this small isle ? 

Driscoe ? Nay, the goodly portion knaves. 

Sparrowdale : You have the humor. Who is he ? 

Driscoe : The new Lord Sparrowdale, Sir Edward, your brother's 
son! 

Sparrowdale : You lie, steward ! Proofs ! Proofs I 

Driscoe : The best produceable. 

Sparrowdale : Then who is this ? 

Driscoe : Fortune lead to-day ; He slew the bastard Earl only to 
wed the title himself. 

Sparrowdale : O, evil destiny ! Which, after all the direness wrought, 
can lead the very object of the strife, to the altar without fame or wife. 

Traglio : What is it he says ? 

Syarrowdale : See what a day brings forth, and live to the end of 
time repeating the world, that patience is one and reasoning another of 
two things necessary, to be wiser and less blind on leaving the world 
than at entering it. 

Driscoe : Ambition and vengeance joining hands, your victims are 
even with you. 

Tragolio : I must account a brother's life. 

Driscoe : It was not your seeking, the shaping of an end between 
you, fell on his head. 

Linton : It can be nothing real ; A servant in my master's house 
and now, at once, his heir ? Marry uncle, is it fact or does the stew- 
ard sport us ? 

Sparrowdale : My brother had son, but he is dead. — If his grave 
spat out, doubt is that he should be spoke alive again ? 



Lord Sparrowdale. 35 



Driscoe : Strange as it may seem, the solvency is less so. Those you 
paid to murder merely abducted, leaving him safe under his name 
ever since. 

Tragi io : (It strikes three.) He is wicked to have mercy on —for his 
daughter's sake. (Funeral dirge.) The very air is strained with 
mourning, soft and gentle laden as by refrain of angels. (Enter pall- 
hearers ojid retinue hearing Emily s body to the Catafalke, tenantry as- 
semhling after them.) 

Sparrowdale : The hour and promise ; ill both. 

Linton : My cousin's friends remain to the last. 

Traglio: (Mounts catafalke.) Cousin? Either faulty or after a fash- 
ion ; unless it be that this is not the Lady of her Lord, but— Can it be 
— could it ? Ha ! It is. Look ou woe ! Is it true, death can be so 
sternly real, and take so heavenly a being laying aside joy forever ? 
O ! Horrible bereavement ! That can strike unkindlier than unkind, 
and wound beyond repair. Why was I left in ignorance of this? With- 
out warning, deluded, left blind, tortured with thought of future build. 
But fear my just anger. (Leaps down.) Now, hell-hound, see if I can 
be as skillful hurrying on as you have been. 

Sparrowdale : (Stahs at him.) Friends, seize the madman. — 

Traglio : Coward ! You did the service for my father with less 
public note. Lay on ! (They fight.) I'll not have it so. Take your 
wretched. life ; It shall behoove justice to punish as you richly deserve ; 
Take it to the fate which waits you. 

Sparrowdale : Fate being against and victor, as I hope to be for- 
given, depart my soul to the long captivity. (Buns on Traglio's 
siuord and falls.) 

Linton: What an end for an uncle— related and untied, all in a 
moment. 

Traglio : Was that man ? 

Driscoe : He was — of the erring. 

Linton : His ambition was sole, and all his fighting with the fates. 

Traglio : Let us forgive him, and offer up prayer to his salvation in 
the state he enters,future and eternal to the winding up of time, {Re- 
mounts catafalke.) Here at this bier I give hope free ; it was my best 
and did transport with its fond smiles. To-morrow lay with the poor 
maid to rest ; it is now but messenger which memory beg uiles. 



(End of Act 5. Curtain,) 



^-""/ iu 'n><ui/><^^- 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 400 066 9 # 







il." 



1 



